Worth Fixing?
by SetsunaNoroi
Summary: The perfect weapon and operative. Widowmaker was this and nothing more, unaware of how deeply that had to be drilled into her to make her accept it. Now her programming is failing her and she finds her mind flooded with sin and regret. Who is she? Who is this young British woman who can't even stand to look at her? Why did Overwatch fall? WidowTracer fic, rated T for dark themes


So I had this idea a while ago, and I decided to give it a shot. Truthfully I never actively shipped WidowTracer but I can certainly see the appeal. I considering shelving the idea after Emily came about but some nice fans convinced me to still write it, so here we are.

Warnings, this is going to deal with very dark themes including death, murder, torture, brainwashing, PTSD, and very deep philosophical questions regarding guilt and forgiveness. While a lot of parts of this story will be uplifting and filled with hope and happiness, keep in mind the story will be dragged into the darkest places to make the brighter parts all the better. This will not be a simple fluff fic as I hope to portray Widowmaker's ordeals realistically but she will have those with her that will help her through. If this bothers you in any way, this might not be the story for you, but I do hope that you will read it and enjoy it. I promise great pain but also, hopefully, great happiness.

Also, don't own Overwatch or any characters depicted within this story. It's Blizzard property. Please support the official release.

Chapter 1: Failure and Fear

The wind was harsh against purple skin, cutting deeper than she had ever remembered. It felt awful and harsh, piercing into her skin and birthing sensations of discomfort that had never affected her before. Widowmaker gasped out as she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing it would stop. Her whole body was betraying her, making her yearn for the numbness she usual felt, the sensations digging into her very veins and making her whole body ache.

The woman was a weapon, perfect in every way. She'd often been told that by her Talon masters, the scientist that had made her, the ones in the shadows that gave her orders, and the ones she worked with. It had never resonated inside of her with any pride when they said it. It was a simple fact to her, but it was one she was used to. It was her pillar, the fact she that was just right the way she was. No need for change, no need for improvement, unmovable and precise. She took orders and fulfilled them to the letter, felt no pain in a fight, put everything into her efforts, and always got the kill.

Well… almost always.

The Russian mission had been a disaster. From almost the beginning, the job to kill Katya Volskaya had not settled well with her. Widowmaker had long since accepted she never seemed to feel real emotions, that she was lacking in that way, but something had niggled at her. Instinct, perhaps. Something about it was wrong, mostly with Sombra. It was rare for the woman to leave the shadows, preferring to stick to her computers at base. Almost never did she leave to go to the front lines for a job, but she'd insisted she would need to be close to hack for Reaper and Widowmaker effectively enough to keep them safe.

She'd been suspicious when the mission had started but it had only grown when they'd failed. A simple declaration that the target had escaped but no word where she had gone or why it was so impossible to chase after her burned in her mind that something wasn't right. She herself had worked harder on jobs before and was sure she could have handled it, but Gabriel had taken Sombra's word for it and ordered the retreat.

It had been orders, nothing more than that and so she'd followed them. Widowmaker had no love for Sombra. She was a fellow spider in the sniper's eyes. Someone who laid in wait for the kill, who took what she wanted when and because she wanted it. Reaper though, Widowmaker trusted. They'd worked together for a long time…

Funny… she couldn't remember when they had first started taking missions together. They didn't often work apart. He was a simple mercenary, one who slaughtered for money and the promise there might be a former Overwatch member to kill on the many missions he was paid for. By logic's stand point, she should trust him much less than Sombra, who had declared herself loyal to the cause of Talon when Reaper himself had openly stated often that as long as their goals were the same he would do as they asked but the second things changed he'd be gone.

Yet Reaper was reliable. There was no memories inside of her mind when she had first met him, had somehow always just known him. Yet something about him resonated with her, like an image in a dream she couldn't chase down yet knew she'd once seen it before somewhere.

There were not many times that Widowmaker dreamed, and she'd just accepted his presence in her life and that for some reason it felt right. That was all that really mattered to her after all.

Perhaps that trust went both ways. She'd never thought to ask but it must have from what had happened after they'd gone back to the ship. They should have known they wouldn't have gotten away so easily. Even with the ship so far away hidden away past the borders of the city, they had been found after taking off. They'd just tried to kill a hero of Russia, of course there would have been consequences. The missiles had come from nowhere, slamming into the black painted metal of the aircraft and thrown her to the ground. Alarms of the ship had flared to life and filled the bulkhead with screeching sirens as computer screens flashes out damage percentages. They'd been thrown around before Reaper could even react, trying to fly the craft out of the assault as he barked orders to his two very mortal and destructible companions to hold on.

It must have been a lucky shot or a very skilled one that had hit them next, blowing right into the door. She could remember with crystal clarity as the heavy but damaged metal was ripped away in the wind as easily as paper, the suction that suddenly gripped her as she'd been running to grab a handrail tearing her out of it. The fall seemed in slow motion to her memories as she'd shot out her grappling hook to try to save herself from falling to the mountains below but it hadn't been long enough or fast enough to catch it with the speed she'd been dropping.

She'd seen Reaper suddenly rush to the door, looking down at her before jumping out of it after her. The sniper could remember him reaching for her, screaming something in his harsh voice. Something cold and harsh to the ears, a single word. It had almost been impossible to make out over the winds whipping around her as the earth came closer and closer.

"AMÉLIE!"

Things faded quickly after that. He'd caught her even as confusion raced through her. She'd heard that name before but she could not fathom from where even as she felt his strong arms pull her to him, wrapping himself around her body. He could have only been trying to take the impact, but it hadn't seemed to matter.

An explosion happened and she'd heard him screaming in agony before black smoke erupted all around her. Then… nothing. Nothing at all. She could only assume she had crashed shortly after that. What had hit them? A missile? Whatever had happened, she'd been lucky to be alive, waking up in the snow afterward alone and injured, but alive.

The sky dark and snow falling down around her, she'd been unable to move for a long time. Her body simply wouldn't let her, and she'd had to power through it. It felt like it had taken forever to drag herself to her gun lying a short ways away. Her communicator had been impossible to find and she had not wasted much time worrying about it. From the fall, the trajectory of where it could have landed was miles long and it was the size of a small pebble. It could have come out of her ear at any point and even if it was nearby there was no way she'd see it at a glance. Locating her missing equipment would have required digging in the snow that had fallen since she'd lost consciousness and that was too dangerous to risk. Though she could not physically feel the cold, she knew she could eventually fall to hypothermia like anyone else even if she did have a better immunity to the elemants than most.

Her injuries had slowed her down considerably. Her leg was twisted about but luckily not broken. Walking was not impossible but it was hard. Pain or no, there was only so much you could push, but push she did even if only in short spurts between long rests. She climbed down from the mountain, already making plans to find a way to contact her group or Talon itself. Reaper had to still be alive since he was too stubborn to ever shake the mortal coil but who knew about Sombra. No doubt she'd been in the ship and Widowmaker had found no wreckage. Had she been able to fly it back so badly damaged or had she gone down somewhere the sniper had not seen only to crash and burn?

With no evidence one way or the other, Widowmaker had been unwilling to make a judgment call on it. She would have to find out when she reached the base and received a debriefing. For now Sombra would provide her no way to reach anywhere and thus did not come into the equation of her plans to get back to base. Perhaps Reaper would find her but for now her first plan of action was to find some way to get back in contact with Talon. Regrouping at this point was only a slim chance.

It had been easier said than done. It took days to reach the city but she did have one thing in her advantage. No one knew her here so no one was looking for her but it did seem to not matter as hard as she had to hide away from anyone's notice. Slipping in under the cover of night had not been a challenge from as weak as her body had been becoming from the strain of her injuries and lack of food or shelter from the cold. Weakness had been wracking her body by the time she was able to find her way into the city and she had collapsed already several times on the way. Blackouts had started to become more and more frequent and she lost untold amount of time to it. She would have called it simply falling to the frailty of her battered body but she wasn't always where she was when she passed out. There were times the terrain had been different, the placement of the trees and rocky ground of the mountain not how it should be.

Gaps in her memories was not something she was unused to but it had never been so blatant before. It was a true concern to her.

Still, she had eventually gotten to the city safely. As hurt as she was though, she could not risk letting anyone see her. She had not been seen on the assassination attempt but a badly hurt, purple woman would immediately result in a call for authorities, something she could ill afford. A glance at herself in a shop window in the middle of the night had shown her just what she'd been forced to power through to even get here. There was a large gash on her head that covered nearly half of her face in a crusted brown of old, dried blood, bruises covering her arms and in places where her outfit was torn. Her landing had not been a pleasant one.

Odd but the longer she stared at it, the more her body ached. Was she really feeling pain now? Her condition had to be worse than she thought, yet no panic rose up in her, only musing over her state. It should have caused an alarm in her and yet something wasn't connecting. She'd never felt pain, but she was now. It was wrong but surely it would be fixed later. For now it was only a small concern.

Widowmaker could only stand there and stare at herself in the mirrored window. Her whole body was a mess. It was amazing she could even still move, that her force of will alone had brought her this far. Standing in the snow, she was practically broken. The longer she looked the more it seemed unsettling to her. An itch formed in the back of her mind, telling her to move, to get somewhere safe. She had to find a way to contact Talon and report her mission a failure, though they probably already knew. It had been some time since the mission.

How long though? Days? Weeks? Her sense of time had left after the third blackout. She had no sense to this anymore and her goggles were too badly broken to even come on, much less give her any data or information. The red glass was broken and shattered in several places, chips fallen from the metal casing like chipped crystal.

The very first thing had been to find herself clothing and shelter, as well as some food. Breaking into a store under the cover of darkness wouldn't be too hard. Suddenly she raised her gun and smashed it into the glass, completely destroying the image of herself so broken and defenseless. Somehow it eased her to no longer look at it.

The whirling of an alarm sounded, but she paid it no mind as she quickly clambered in, finally out of the biting cold. It was a pastry store and had the basics of what she needed for now. Grabbing some cookies left out of the counter for customers, she shoved the food into her mouth and chewed with vigor, almost choking over them. The sweets stuck to her mouth, gummy and vile without any liquids that she'd been unable to drinnk since her climb had stared leaving her mouth dry to the point of cracking. It took every effort not to spit them back out and instead force herself to swallow before cramming more in. It did little to comfort her but any food at this point was welcome. Starving to death was not a way she was willing to let herself die.

Her head whipped suddenly to the side when she heard a crunching of glass before realizing someone was outside, no doubt attracted by the noise she'd made. Her gun rose and she pulled the trigger just as a light flashed out on her, shinning on her face and blinding her. Crying out, she covered her eyes but heard the thud of whoever had seen her falling.

Dead? There was no time to confirm the kill. Blinking rapidly to clear vision, she shook her head and decided she had to run for it. Climbing out of the hole in the window and nearly tripping over the bleeding body of the police officer, she descended on top him with a frenzy. Ripping the coat and hat off of him, she threw them on as quickly as she could, forcing herself to ignore the foreign feeling of pain that erupted from her at the frantic and jerky movements. Next she ripped the pistol out of the holster, determined to have as many weapons as she could manage and then finally the flashlight. It was the best she would be able to do for now and she forced herself to hobble off as fast as she could from the scene.

It was almost dawn by the time she hid herself, tucked away underneath an archway that lead into an alleyway. Huddled down into the snow, she tugged the coat so tightly around her the seams threatened to split. Her whole body was screaming at her now, the pain refusing to leave. She wanted to close her eyes, to let herself to rest but it seemed impossible from the horrid feelings throbbing inside of her head and the rest of her. Every part of her ached and would not stop. Limbs felt like they were on fire, her stomach would not stop rumbling to the point of agony and she fought the urge to throw up the few cookies she'd even been able to eat in the first place.

Almost like a wind-up doll coming to the end of the gears letting her run, she felt like she was running out of time and energy. In the daylight she could not move for fear of being discovered, but it was more than that. She felt herself shutting down, fading even as the pain exploded inside of her in a way that was impossible to push down or ignore. How odd the more it pierced inside of her very soul the less aware she felt. Shouldn't it had been keeping her awake and aware? Things seemed to fade more and more, the already dark alleyway dimming even further as her eyes finally slid shut and she went completely still when she lost herself to nothingness.

Something stuck with her as she felt it all going, leaving her senses and leaving her with only her thoughts.

Just who was Amélie?

#-#

Eyes shot open suddenly in a flash, dark and cloudy as they shot back and forth, trying to take in the details of where she was. Her whole body went rigid in agony as she jerked forward and fell harshly onto the dirty and snowy ground and a pained scream escaped her before she clapped her hands over her mouth. No. No, she couldn't scream. That would alert attention. It was too dangerous. She had to keep quiet, not matter what.  
Pushing herself up, it took a moment to clear her head but she was able to finally focus past the pain and let herself take in her surroundings. It was dark out and she was completely alone No one was around, no one to threaten or capture her. Breathing hard, she let herself be grateful for that but only for a brief moment. Her safety wasn't assured here, especially with the noise she'd been making.

It was time to flee, to get somewhere safe. Contact… yes, she needed to contact help. Out here all alone she was easy pickings. Who knew who was out there. Enemies could be around any and every corner. Pain could be dealt with later. For now she had to get away.

Get away, get safe. Find someone who could help her.

Struggling to walk, it took everything to lean against the building and stumble along, her leg nearly frozen and numb. It was the only thing that wasn't feeling anything but that was more worrying than reassuring. She didn't want to look down at it, didn't want to see how badly it must have been swollen or banged up or infected if it was in such bad shape that it had gone completely numb while the rest of her fought to feel anything but pain.

Jerking back a little when someone walked by, she didn't dare move until their footsteps retreated completely. Breathing raggedly and hoping no one could hear it, she stumbled out onto the street and looked around wildly. Panic rose in her at the thought of getting caught but she had come too far to turn into a coward now. She had to be strong, had to keep moving. It was the only hope she had.

Finally she was able to find salvation. A payphone. Throwing herself at it, she slammed the door shut behind her and leaned against the inside framing heavily. She her hand against against the side of the screen, wondering if this was safe to call for help from here of all places. It was nowhere near a safe connection, could easily be hacked and traced, but what choice did she have? If she dawdled she would be caught for sure, something she wasn't willing to risk for the world.

Her fingers shook horribly from the cold that had long since sunk into her body and refused to leave. They trembled as she pushed numbers into the dial pad, but the screen only showed her an error message as a recorded female voice said something in Russian with a soft and soothing tone that scared her terribly. She jammed the numbers in again but it yielded no results that were any different.

Another number gave her similar results. The message in the foreign language started to echo in her ears as fear flooded her and she hit the keys harder and harder with every consecutive attempt at a new code.

"No, no! They can't have all been changed already! I haven't been gone so long!" she cried out as tears started to well up in her eyes. Every single emergency code was refusing to work for her and she started to slam her fist against the screen. "Work! Oh god, please work!"

The numbers she'd long since memorized were failing her, and she only had a few more to try. No hope was left in her now of contacting anyone or being rescued but she pushed it in anyway, desperation all she had left to push her forward now.

Finally something flickered to life on the screen, a small icon of a green phone shaking as if vibrating. Hope filled in her chest like a balloon, wishing for someone she knew to answer.

"Please… please," she breathed before the screen flared to life. She felt her lips tug into a smile as tears streamed down her cheeks at the face there, showing shock and surprise at seeing her. "Oh thank god."

"What… what in the world?"

"I don't have much time," she whispered. "Please, you have to trace this call. I don't know what happened. I don't know where I am. You have to send help."

She felt her leg give out and she suddenly slumped forward, only her grip on the screen keeping her upright.

"Please, Winston. I'm so scared. Save me," she whispered before she slipped all the way to the ground in a crumpled heap. What little energy she'd had was gone and she could barely keep herself upright anymore.

It was okay though, Amélie told herself. She had gotten help. There hadn't been much hope the connection code to contacting a small outpost would have worked when none of the numbers to reach Overwatch HQ had done any good, but she wasn't about to question it. She could hear the shouting of confusion from the video call though the words were impossible to make out any longer. No doubt she'd given everyone a fright, getting kidnapped like she had.

How had she gotten away? How had she escaped? Her mind was full of blanks that had no way to fill them, not with the shape she was in. She could only hope that they would reach her in time, that she would be alright. She wanted to be safe again, in a warm bed and with her husband again. God, he had to be so terrified, probably thinking the worst.

If she had any luck they would find her before her kidnappers had, but it seemed for now no threats were coming. She hoped they didn't at all. She was just in no condition to fight back but… well, even if she was grabbed again a connection had been established with the call. They would have a lead to follow in finding her, hopefully without a full rescue needed.

The woman curled up into herself as she waited, only barely able to keep awake in the dark. Her mind felt like it was swimming in a fog and it was getting harder to think. It was easier to just keep her thoughts quiet. All she had to last was a couple hours. Wherever she was, she was sure she'd be found within that amount of time.

Oh god, she just wanted to go home.

End of Chapter 1

This felt more like a prologue than an actual chapter but I guess that's almost always the case when you first start a story. The next chapter is sure to be much longer, I have no doubt. A lot more is going to be happening in it, especially since it'll be focusing on more than one character's narrative.

One thing I want to say about Widowmaker. It's never been too clear on what she is and is not aware of. In the later comics and the Alive short it seemed she does have memories of who she was but it wasn't clear how much she really cares. There seems to be a sense of awareness in her but how much she can connect in her own mind is a mystery. I somehow doubt she knows completely that she was kidnapped by Talon since it just opens up a big can of worms, but she seems perfectly aware of who Gerald was. I'll be exploring that more fully in following chapters but I've got a pretty clear headcanon of what she does and doesn't know in this story. Don't worry. Everything going on with her will become clear in time.

So if you don't mind, reviews are greatly appreciated and loved. Please, even a "liked it, can't wait for more," makes my day. Let me know your thoughts and I will greatly appreciate it. Thank you.


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